The Great Atonement
by Toriga-Okami
Summary: Vinnie feeling glum, looks on life and immortality in general, makes a vague sweeping motion at his relationship with Yuffie, then slouches off to go mope at Lady-love-in-crystalline-form. Just a normal day at the office of Vinny McVinsters
1. The gr8 atonement the hero of the world

**_A/N:_** This is a one-shot, although I may end up adding extra chapters they will be as drabbles. If I do add any they're likely to follow along the same vein as this one - Vinnie feeling glum, looking on his life with a bleak outlook, having some great atonement or something of the like - so yeah, that's about it... Enjoy? :)

* * *

**The Great Atonement: By the Hero of the World.**

In taking away that which we hold dear, we can insight a body to be more than he or she would be had they something to lose. We can achieve this to an equal degree by making so the things deemed as losable, and therefore weakening, are no longer losable, life for example. Make one an immortal, and loss of life shall not affect them. But as all things are and as everyone knows, everything comes at a cost, even Immortality. Immortality as a punishment is the most testing of all perhaps as there is much more that comes with this punishment than pure immortality. There is grieving to be done for the mortal, there is longing for an end, there is pressure and stress beyond that which the mind can cope with. The ability to die is not the only thing that is lost with immortality; the mind is also lost, choosing to forsake the body which will continue to live forever. Time loses all meaning and we cannot live amongst the living – those who value time so preciously – if time to us has no meaning. None know this more so than Vincent Valentine.

For 50 years he has not aged a day past 30. For 50 years he has mourned those he has lost. For 50 years he has refused to love another, fearing the day that they will leave him, either through incapability to cope with his seemingly eternal youth, or they themselves will simply age and die. Vincent is very aware of the effect he has on others, being an immortal is obviously very interesting, particularly in a society undisturbed by war, planetary collisions, military conspiracy and more. The simple fact that he cannot die would not surprise the youngest and most naive of children, but it would certainly interest them.

Naturally this 'affliction' allows Vincent the 'pleasures' often denied to other beings by fear of bad health – like smoking and drinking himself into a stupor without the after effects of lung cancer and the mother of all headaches, for example.

Letting out a sigh, Vincent removes the cigarette from his lips and blows a thin column of smoke out his open window. The streets of Kalm below him are brightly lit and music fills the air. The celebrations are justified he feels – Shinra's final penetration was all over the news anyway – but he couldn't find it in himself to join them. The years haven't been all that kind to him, but he would much rather sit in his home – a reasonable place for him to be – than wander aimlessly through the much quieter streets of the town in search of some unknown solace.

He can imagine that Midgar would be in the same state of euphoria and the 7th heaven would be jam-packet around now. Tifa would love the business, but she'd push herself to the limits to make the most of the people's sudden good-spirit. The bar wouldn't be closed for the next week he could bet; perhaps he would pay a visit _after_ the screaming cheering hordes had left the place in relative peace. He only hoped he didn't run into Yuffie.

It wasn't really that he didn't enjoy the company of the young girl – correction, young _woman_ – but he would find himself dragged into all kinds of trouble, usually requiring him to either hide with her in a closet holding his breath so they wouldn't be caught by cloud – or whoever the incorrigible ninja had pulled a trick on this time – or he would feel her wrath afterwards because he'd "grassed her up" as Denzel or Marlene would say.

Lifting the cigarette back to his lips, he takes a long drag and reaches for his glass of red wine. Blowing the smoke out the window, he swirls the liquid in the glass. Red wine, something he finds he can relate to, gets better the longer you leave it in the bottle. He would like to think he's a much better person than he was when he started this stupid immortality lark, the presence of his friends and a certain little ninja he doesn't feel exactly falls into that category are the reasons for this new outlook on life.

Well in reality, he thinks as he sips at the wine appreciatively, he hasn't really got a new outlook on life so much as some perspective, which he has to admit he's been forced into by everything that went on around him. This new perspective does not exclude the view that he's a killer with nothing but base animal instincts left, but it does at least incorporate the idea that he's probably not entirely to blame for Lucrecia's untimely demise. Yuffie wouldn't agree if he told her. She would argue that he's not _at all _to blame for Lucrecia's very _well timed_ demise and that should Vincent continue to profess otherwise she would shove her shuriken so far up his backside he wouldn't be able to sit down for the next month and a half.

So naturally he didn't tell her, as much as time really didn't matter all that much to him, and a month and a half wasn't all that long in comparison to eternity, having a Shuriken shoved up one's backside for that exact length of time couldn't be the most comfortable of plans ever to have graced mankind with its presence.

He supposes that if Lucrecia had ever met Yuffie, she would hate the girl. Not because Lucrecia hated a lot of people or was nasty at all, but simply because Yuffie stole and played tricks and anyone foolish enough to stand too close to her would very soon find themselves swept up into some stupid plan of hers. That or they would have to check every single thing they owned in fear of having been robbed.

It troubled Vincent greatly to think that maybe one day he would have sided with Lucrecia without a second thought, being so utterly in love with her that he wouldn't even attempt to open his own eyes and see Yuffie for himself. Now though – and this was the troubling thing – he found he enjoyed Yuffie's company more than he could remember ever having enjoyed Lucrecia's. He wasn't in love with Yuffie, not by a long shot, he was old enough to be her grandfather, but she eased the pain. He got so worked up and annoyed at her stupidity and thievery – particularly when he was the victim of her predatory nature – that he entirely forgot about his angry face and uncaring silence. He could still remember the grin she wore when he first snapped at her about stealing his gun. The whole room had gone silent as his hand clamped shut around her wrist, tugging her back so they were nearly a foot away and he could tell her off – loudly – for his missing gun. Not an ounce of fear could be found in those plum-brown eyes of hers and he thought that maybe that's the reason he had shouted at her like that.

The stupid girl was always getting herself into trouble without a care in the world, even that time she nearly cut her entire leg off trying to steal materia from a dragon. There had been so much blood and the veins were hanging out like strings from a puppet and she had simply laughed. He couldn't find it in himself to shout at her then, only managing to find enough strength to wrap up the leg and carry her back to the WRO headquarters piggy-back style. It hadn't taken long for them to heal her leg, 3 hours around, working carefully and attentively so as not to leave a scar. He hadn't moved from his spot by the door in all that time.

His glass of wine finished, Vincent stood from his bed and went to leave the glass in the sink. He stubbed his cigarette out on the drainer – a habit he had retained from his days as a Turk – and reached for where his cloak was slung over one of the two kitchen chairs. Yuffie had insisted he get two so she could have somewhere to sit when she came to pester him.

He walks to his front door and leaves, not caring to lock the door as he closes it behind him – he'd catch and kill anyone stupid enough to try and steal from _his_ home. Bypassing the night's excitement, he takes the road out of the town and heads for the hills, where the caves are. So, he may not be able to spend time with the living, rambunctious people he shares this planet with, and he may enjoy Yuffie's company much more than he ought and more than he enjoyed that of Lucrecia's, but he's _allowed_ to love _her_, even if all he can love is her crystalline form.

The cave is just as blue as he remembers it, but the crystal has changed. It doesn't take him long to see the bit of paper tacked in front of Lucrecia's face and with a bound and a growl he rips it off.

_Dearest Vamp-man,_

_I have taken the liberty of murdering your store of  
materia and I hope you'll understand that I need it for a good cause.  
__  
Hope you're not too down my little goober,  
Love Love, Yuffie xxxx_

For a moment, all Vincent can do is stare at the paper, caught in a confusing mixture of anger – part for the unpleasant nick-names, part for the 'murdering' of his materia, and part for the fact that Yuffie actually had the _gall_ to stick her little note to Lucrecia's _face_ – but eventually he just lets the paper fall to his side, returning to his usual spot and rested his elbow on his bent knee. Even here in the luminescent, ethereal glow of the Mako crystal, he can find no peace. She always finds a way to get under his skin, ruining his great atonement...

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Thoughts? prompts?

-Okami


	2. One night stand  Hinder

**VPOV**

There were times, when I was alone with myself, shut up in my room or in my office in the WRO headquarters that I, Vincent Valentine, used to wonder what it would take to make me fall in love again. It wasn't as though there weren't women who caught my eye, Tifa for example; I had no doubt that with that body, those eyes and – dare I say it? – Those seemingly endless legs, she would make a perfectly heavenly lover, and Aerith too when she was alive. But they were each someone else's problem, Tifa to Cloud and Aerith to Zack and I never felt any obligations to them other than friendly co-operation. Even Shalua has her benefits, but she's nothing more than a friend at best.

No love is ever felt for anyone that I recognise as someone else's problem. So you can imagine my abject horror and mortification when I realise – standing at a bar, dressed as a civilian – that if Yuffie gets any more drunk and/or friendly with that letch she's 'dancing' with, she will most definitely become a problem. My problem.

I can see he – the mangy, flea bitten, acne head she's got draped around her – has got his hands on her waist and is grinding against her back. Her eyes are shuttering and I can hear her breath hitching from here and they're on the other side of the floor. I can't really stop my eyebrows from knitting in the middle as Mr McGreasy slides his hand over her stomach, pushing her back against himself. Her head is falling back onto him and all my cynical brain can register is the fact that they're all but fucking on the dance floor.

Now I'm not a generally unreasonable person, but you'd think by the way Yuffie was gawping at me as I dragged her away from the newly floored 'Butt-face' (as I so fondly named him) that I'd just pulled my trousers down and mooned the entire room. Just to clear up any uncertainties: I hadn't.

"Vincent!" She shrieked once I chucked her (gently) against the wall, "What did you do that for?"

"I didn't think it was appropriate." I said calmly, watching as she rolled her eyes.

"Well of course it wasn't appropriate, that's why I'm asking you-"She prodded me unnecessarily hard in the stomach, "Why did you punch him in the face?"

To make him look better. "He had his hands all over you Yuffie. _That_ was inappropriate."

She looked at me with that 'no shit' face and just said "And his dick in my back wasn't?"

_I_ went red. I could feel my cheeks burning up even as I mumbled "Exactly..."

I think she went red too but I couldn't really tell, I wasn't exactly looking at her anymore, I only heard her muttering "What are you, my boyfriend?"

Well technically, no, but she was drunk and we _were_ at a bar... If the little plan forming in my head – courtesy of chaos – turned out wrong, I could blame it on the drink. Besides, if she was going to be my problem – and it was fast looking that way – might as well go the whole hog right?

Taking the proverbial bull by the horns, I slipped a hand through her hair, tangling my fingers in the dark strands, braced my other hand by her neck, pulled her head back so I could groan against her lips, my breath fluttering across her cheeks, "Yes..."

I actually think I sounded like I was in pain, rather than turned on by her, but it seemed to work anyway as I think her breathing cut out entirely for a couple of heartbeats. Then cool fingers wrapped themselves around the wrist by her neck and she growled warningly "Vincent..."

You'd think after all the time I've spent being annoyed and irritated by this ninja, I'd have heard just about every single tone of voice she had to put out there, but I'd never heard my name being said with such a... Heart-stopping, nervous, warning whisper like that... Kind of turned me on if you know what I mean...

**YPOV**

Ok... So the weirdness just goes from weird to weirder... I was quite enjoying myself out on the floor, dancing away. Ok granted the dude was a munter, but if I didn't face him I didn't have to see him and could pretend perfectly well that those hands, the ones skimming against my stomach - pushing me back against a disappointingly tiny 'mini-munter' that kind of let the show down, if you know what I mean – belonged to a certain Vinnie Valentine who I could see was becoming more and more broody by the second.

Well, I was busily engrossing myself in my overly vivid imagination when suddenly 'Munter' got his lights punched out by the _real_ Vinnie Valentine. Imagine my surprise when Real Vinnie then proceeded to drag me from the floor and slam me up against a wall. I didn't even bother to remove the slapped-fish look from my face.

And _then,_ after balking at my 'inappropriate' behaviour with munter, he's slipped his fingers through my hair and crushed our bodies together proclaiming himself to be my boyfriend! Oh lord on high! Your good deed for the day is done! (Happy face).

You'd be amazed just how nice gramps here actually smells... A mixture of those pretty yellow flowers you find on the top of mountains and bailey's original Irish cream... I couldn't help but take a whiff, I'd never actually been close enough to the guy – he's got himself _so_ close our lips are almost touching and he's had to move his head to the side to avoid a full on nose-collision – to fulfil my life-long intrigue and see what he smells like. Can't say it's all that disappointing really...

Anyway, the tiny little rational part of my brain still functioning along the vague lines of normality did attempt to slow him down and wrapped my hand round his burning hot wrist. This however – along with my little turned on whisper of the pseudo vampire's name – seemed to only turn him on further as the next minute he'd sealed his lips to mine, completely obliterating any thoughts of protest. Kudos to the brain.

When I say he obliterated all thoughts of protest what I really mean is I had him practically in a head lock, hanging on for all I was worth – I had waited and dreamed of this moment for _far_ too long to even contemplate letting the broody little mutant go now.

**VPOV**

So I think I may have lost some of my highly-esteemed self-restraint then, because evidence shows I am now connected at the mouth to one of the most irritating and sexy individuals ever to have snogged a vampire. Lord only knows what was going through my head at the time of this connection, but I'll have to try and remember that later as this is much too distracting for forward thinking.

I'd never really given Yuffie much credit before, but she has a very strong grip and right now I feel as if my hair is being pulled out by the roots, but obviously she has huge handfuls of the stuff so that's just not happening. Perhaps this is payback for holding her head back.

Releasing her hair only gained a whimper of disapproval and a leg slipping round the back of my knee. Well... I think that's fairly obvious enough what she wants now – no need to blame this on the drink... it was practically rape, although whether that definition still applied when I had started it I'm not sure.

Now you must remember it's been a little while – 40 years approximately – since I've done this whole making-out thing so you'll excuse me for being a little rusty. Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed hold of her hip with my free hand and pushed her back against the wall, her leg pulling me with her till we were both flush with each other and Yuffie was sandwiched between me and the wall which – if the gasps and arching back was anything to go by – must have been pretty fucking freezing.

Taking the second proverbial bull by his sort-of-blunt proverbial horns, I took advantage of her gasp and slid my tongue into her mouth. Her eyes, which had previously screwed themselves shut, snapped open. I knew mine were hooded, but I really _really_ hoped my usually glowing eyes were at their most luminous right now – I was of the opinion that half-lidded glowing orange eyes were considered sexy by most of the female population of the planet, and rather hoped that might include Yuffie in the mix. Apparently my eyes weren't glowy enough, as the next second Yuffie was pulling our heads a part to pant:

"What-what is this V-vincent?"

"What does it look like Yuffie?" I panted back. (Yes, even immortals get out of breath sometimes. People have been making this same mistake for years and years. Let me demonstrate: "Oh no! An immortal! What do we do? He can't die! ARGGHHHHH!" Let's freeze it there. So he can't die because he keeps coming back to live right? Sure, but if he's unconscious... All you need to do is put the immortal in a vacuum and bob's your uncle – not literally. If the immortal can't breathe, they're trapped in a constant cycle of life and death! Obviously I haven't worked out how you'd get the immortal into the vacuum tube yet... Or even where you'd get one from, but if I'm sure if you found someone who did have one and you explained the situation and asked nicely I'm sure they'd let you use it. And with any luck the immortal will be so old their brains will have turned to mush with centuries of inventing ludicrous theories – much like this one - anyway and they'll be so stupid it'll be a breeze to lure them into the vacuum tube and remove said breeze thus trapping and securing them for eternity. But then again if they're so stupid as to let you trap them in a vacuum you might as well lock them in a cupboard and remove the handle; it'll have the same effect. Gods... The crap I come up with when I'm bored belies belief...)

"It looks like you're messing with me."

Well technically yes I suppose you _could_ call this 'messing' as I'm only in it for the fun and to sooth those raging hormones I've kept locked up for the better part of 40 years (the majority of which I spent in a coffin in some dead dude's mansion) but honestly right now she was bloody irresistible. Better not let her know that or the bitch will lord it over me for as long as we both shall live. Is it just me or does that smack a bit of the wedding vows all men fear to make?

"It looked like you were messing with Butt-face over there, so I don't see how this is any different."

"What if I felt something for the munter?"

"You obviously don't feel anything for him! You just called him a munter!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Well you christened him Butt-face so I don't see what you're getting at here!"

By this time I'd completely forgotten what my point was so I took the _third_ proverbial bull by the horns and said – making sure it sounded as deep and ready as possible: "Be my biggest fan... Scream as loud as you can... Shake me... I want you to make me feel something I might remember tomorrow Yuffie..."

**YPOV**

Bloody hell, has Christmas come early?

After his little speech, I think it's safe to say things got pretty fuck heated pretty fucking fast. It was all darkness and alcohol and clashing teeth and tongues and legs and arms and wowza! So I knew he had to have some experience, what with all that trouble with Lucrecia, but his tongue in my mouth and on my skin and those eyes... So red and so hot... made all my little fantasies seem like child's play. And that was _before_ he booked us in to a hotel and the clothes started coming off.

It felt a little weird handing myself over to someone who was chronologically old enough to be my father but you know. It did occur to me, sometime between the first and fourth orgasms – at which point he lost it too – that this might just be a one night stand, but hey, if it had happened once it could happen again right? And it wasn't as if we weren't going to see each other at work on Monday so you know...

Once Vincent had rolled off me, I really started to feel the cold. We hadn't even noticed the window was open, the girl at the desk had mentioned it but we were in too much of a hurry for anything like closing all the windows. I turned and curled into Vinnie's side, and the happy little goober – for once in his life he was smiling – wrapped an arm round my shoulders and pulled the covers up tight around us.

"Vince?"

"Hmm?"

"This stops tomorrow doesn't it..."

**VPOV**

I honestly hadn't thought of that. Of course it had to end. There was no way we could carry this on past tonight. She was the princess of Wutai and I was some undead lab experiment harbouring some of the most dangerous sentient beings in our existence.

"It does."

She sighed and buried her face in my side. I didn't _want_ to say that. Honest! After so long of no sex at all, Yuffie felt fantastic. I can't remember ever having elicited so many orgasms from any of my partners, so the feeling of internal muscles rippling along my length _four_ times is not something I'm going to forget any time soon. In fact I might even go so far as to say she was the best shag I'd ever had. The hymen had broken but it was obvious she was a virgin, no taken woman could be that tight.

"That's not what I want..."

"You have until tomorrow to convince me." I said, glancing at the clock. 22:56. "You have one hour Yuffie. Stop stalling."

This was about sex not love, I tried to convince myself as she rippled across me a sixth time. I was not falling for her, but I'd be damned if I could love anyone else again. Yuffie was definitely my problem now, but after my days as a Turk, you'd think I would have more resilience to one night stands. I could only hope she mistook these tears on her neck for sweat.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ So... I bet we were all expecting that to be funny all the way to the end right? Wrongo bongos xD I love building things up just to tear them down xD Anyone who reads my work should know this by now :) This might carry on but if it does it'll be a series of one-shots, not necessarily in chronological order xD

As always, R&R please :D (L)

-Okami


	3. PictureProofPositive

_**PictureProofPositive.**_

"Say Vince..." Yuffie asked airily over the back of the seat she was currently swinging on. "What would you do if I left and went back to Wutai?"

Glancing across his office, Vincent regarded the young woman for a while, spinning and swinging away happily in one of his spinney-office-chairs with a tilting back. "Leap up and down, singing and dancing in delight?"

"Damn... And I wouldn't even be there to see it..." The tone of disappointment added little guilt to the Ex-Turk's conscience, and he continued to write on the mission report he was currently attempting to fill with his neat script.

"But what would you actually do?" Yuffie asked again, ceasing her movement on the chair to fix Vincent with a determined look. "Would you miss me? Would you kill yourself? I mean," she sat back and crossed her arms, a contented smugness coming over her features. "The amount of times I've saved your vampy arse, you might as well wait for it, you wouldn't last too long without my awesomeness around to save you anyway, why kill yourself when you could just let it happen?"

Yuffie's ending snigger was lost on deaf ears as Vincent disappeared into his own little world, trying to think very hard about what exactly he would do if Yuffie wasn't around. He guessed he'd miss her a little, but he wouldn't kill himself, even if she _had_ saved him an embarrassing number of times already. He guessed he would be alright, he'd have Shelke and her lack of humour to keep him dry and dusty, who needed an overly rambunctious ninja to brighten your days when you had the remnants of Lucrecia uploaded into the brain of a converted Tsviet?

"I'm not a vampire."

Yuffie shrugged and got up from her chair, bouncing her way over to slide onto the corner of the desk, turning on her hip so she could stretch out over the surface and consequently Vincent's work. "Doesn't matter, I've still saved your life."

"I know," he sighed, dropping his pen on the last available bit of desk and leaning back in his chair. Despite what he always told himself, Yuffie was a very attractive young woman and was very capable of trapping him in a state of complete and raging arousal with only a rasp of her jacket zipper. "And I'm grateful to you. I just don't know what you want to hear from me."

"That you'd miss me."

"A little"

"That you'd be bored."

"Sometimes."

"That Shelke and Lucrecia would become lacking and you'd finally realise that I'm the only one to bring a real smile to your face."

"Nope" He said, popping the 'P' and watching in amusement as Yuffie's face fell dramatically. She had been slowly edging her way across the desk until she was now practically in his lap. But his disagreement had stalled her long enough for Vincent to wheel his chair to a safer distance and stand up. "When you leave, could you take that report to Reeve for me?"

"I don't see any report." Yuffie said, looking around her at all the masses of paper she had scattered in her interrogation.

"It's the one you're lying on." He said, opening the door and turning to watch Yuffie tumble off the desk, a hand rising above the edge of the desk to pat around the top until the aforementioned piece of paper was attained. "And close the door when you leave please. Thank you Yuffie."

The door safely shut and Vincent gone, Yuffie felt it was safe enough to poke her head over the desk and reach for a tissue. Mopping up the nose bleed she'd given herself from the fall from Vincent's desk, Yuffie settled herself down in his chair and tilted her head back. The bleeding was almost stopped when something caught her eye; one of the plasterboard ceiling tiles was slightly out of its place and the corner of something white could be seen poking out of the gap.

"Heh heh Vinnie" She chuckled, wobbling around on top of the spinney-chair and reaching for the thing, "You're really really busted now..."

She trailed off as the thing came into the light. It was an envelope with her name on it, written in Vincent's unmistakably tidy handwriting. Suddenly feeling very bad, she scampered over to the door and turned the lock muttering:

"You can never be too safe..."

The envelope appeared to contain exactly what it said on the front. It was filled with pictures of her, from the age of 16, all dressed up in her Wutian Kimono, her previously long hair all curled and falling like water around her shoulder, to now, the most recent photo appeared to have been taken at Cid's birthday, which was only a few weeks ago. Aside from the photos, many of which had annotations on the back – things like the date or event, or even just her name – there were also a lot of little notes, diary entries been ripped out of Vincent's journal. And a letter. A letter in a smaller envelope with her name on it, once again.

It read:

_Yuffie,_

_You would not believe I am writing this sat in the dim light of Lucrecia's cave, but I think I am going mad. Out of all the years I've spent alive, the ones with you have been the most horrific, irritating and incorrigible of the lot and I would not be at all surprised if you think this means I consider you to be a nuisance. That is not it at all. For all the years I spent in that coffin, I was content that no one could see me and scorn me. But now I see you virtually every day and it annoys me that you have to see me in all my very worst moments. Yet you do not scorn me when really you should. I fail to understand this lack of common human behaviour; I need your help again._

_I don't want to lead you into thinking I don't enjoy being able to see you, because I do, but I am ashamed that I haven't the guts to tell you to your face. For the record, I never intend to hand you this letter and should you find it and read it, it will either be by my negligence or by your cunning and – dare I say it? – Awesome ninja'ing skills._

_When I first knew of you, I thought you were a horrible little brat who knew nothing of the world and wanted nothing to do with duty or your country. I thought you had abandoned everything that should have mattered. But I was wrong. It quickly became clear that you were not at all as naive about the world as I had thought. I still thought you disparaging of your duty to your country and indeed still do, but I learned to respect the part of you that knew how to fight and equate yourself to the battle. You were a thieving, conniving little imp who could swindle their way through anything and anywhere. You reminded me of myself._

_When I was a Turk, I was naive, much more so than you are and I put my heart into what I did, much as I suspect you do too. The murders and set-ups, assassinations and dealings were all part of a job I did well but blindly. I was a fool when I fell to Lucrecia. I was unable to stop myself and I would very much like to say I have evolved and learnt from that. However I am wrong, I have done it again. I put too much into following you and making sure you were alright. Don't for heaven sake ask me why I did it, I have no idea, but the fact of the matter remains, I am like a slave to your wishes; I can deny you nothing._

_I'm sure if you are reading this then you have already found the pictures? Some of them I found and some I took myself, I wanted something to remind me of you when you're gone, back to Wutai or gone forever, as eventually everyone will. I have no idea what I will do when I am the last one left, I can hardly play cards by myself. I suppose I might end my life, at the end of all life, but we shall see what I feel like doing when the time comes._

_Here is the part whereby I reveal my biggest confession yet... I love you... I can hardly believe the words are leaving my pen but it is as though they are writing themselves onto the page, I hardly have to think about this. I know the others will all object to my loving you, we are so different after all, and there is such an age gap it's almost laughable. If you ever find out, I know you will either try and laugh it off or just pretend it didn't happen, so either way just saying nothing and waiting for this feeling to go away is my best option. I know it won't work because previous experience has told me so, but I will wait anyway._

_I apologise for being so rash and abrasive all the time, but I think of it as a sort of safety mechanism, to make sure you never find out how I feel. But now I've written it down I don't feel so bad. I guess I must also apologise how taking so long to realise how I felt, taking so long to see the force between you and me... You were just such a long time coming..._

_With regards,_

_Vincent Valentine. X_

One kiss... The letter was so long and so complicated that Yuffie had to read it over twice, but by that time Vincent had returned from wherever he had gone and wanted to be let back into the room. Leaving the letter and all the photos on the desk, Yuffie dashed over and unlocked the door.

"Why did you have my door locked?" Vincent questioned, peering over her shoulder into the room, his eyes hardening when they settled on the ceiling tile sat propped up by his desk. "And why have you been demolishing my roof?"

"Erm..." Yuffie gulped nervously as Vincent walked past her into the room, taking long strides towards the desk and the scatter of photos and paper.

Slowly, as the sight of the envelope and photos and the location of the missing tile hit home, Vincent's steps petered to a halt, his mouth forming a silent shocked 'O'. He immediately felt as if his stomach had dropped out onto the ground and had taken his heart with it. He hurried forwards, hoping against hope that Yuffie hadn't managed to read the letter, but stopped when he saw it open on his desk. Panicking slightly, he whirled to the door, but the little ninja had gone.

"Oh no..." He whispered, his feet suddenly taking him at a run for the door, the ninja's name on his lips...

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Just a little drabble, I had an idea in my head and it just came out onto the page xD I might write a little bit about when Vincent's getting these photos... like a 50 prompts thing... which reminds me... got any prompts for a Yuffentine 50 prompts? ;)

Anyway, I wasn't so happy about the end so I apologise for that :/

Please review and tell me what you think :)

-Okami


	4. Don't Scream

His voice was quiet by her ear, his golden claw over her mouth, gilded tips just digging into her skin:

"Don't scream."

She could see Cerberus out of the corner of her eye, held loosely but confidently in his hand. She tried to shake her head, but he stopped her, pulling her back against his chest and suddenly she could see his hair as it draped over her shoulder. The only sound she made was a squeak of fear, to which he shushed her gently:

"Quietly Yuffie."

She could feel her knees shaking from what could only be fear and the hand covering her mouth moved to gently caress her neck, leaving three little bloody trails in their wake from her cheek to her throat. The rhythmic gliding of metal over her skin did little to calm her, much as his soft, regular breathing by her ear did little to assure her of his sanity.

"It's alright to shake."

He knew she was scared, and she could sense his satisfaction. She could barely breathe with his hand around her neck like that and her nerves were going mad as it was. Slowly, the morning light began to filter in through the window and she could see her reflection in the mirror on his wall. He ran the three barrels lightly along her jaw:

"You're so beautiful like this."

How could his voice be so level? When she had been tied at the wrists and bundled from her hideaway she had not expected her kidnapper to be Vincent Valentine, neither had she expected to be stood in front of a mirror in his bedroom, his claws leaving marks like wires in her skin and his voice whispering purred encouragement in her ear.

"Can you see yourself Yuffie?"

Of course she could see herself, but she didn't understand what she was seeing. She didn't understand why she was tied, why Vincent was taunting her, why he was _making_ her see. The gun did another caress of her jaw, before moving her head to look at him instead. His eyes were luminescent and orange in the paleness of his face.

"It's hard to find perfection like this."

Perfection? She wanted to argue with him, wanted to tell him off for spouting such rubbish and for making her feel frightened. But she was too scared of what might happen if she did, he had her at point blank already. Slowly, as if determined to savour this moment of complete control, his cracked, dry lips descended towards hers.

"Just... Please don't scream."

It might have been her imagination, or the situation finally getting to her, but he sounded desperate:

"Don't scream."

* * *

_**A/N:**_ A little bit angsty I guess, but I'm not going to put much at the end to explain it because I think it's fun to let you guys think for yourselves. But I'll give you a clue to start you off ;) This is the only way for a monster... (Kudos and cookies to peeps who review/prompt/understant :] )

-Okami


	5. Mission 1

**_A/N:_** This is DEDICATED to 'em space' as they gave me the prompt and said I could use it and flesh it out a bit more, I hope you enjoy this one, em space. This one's for you:

* * *

The cloudless skies were blue above them and the sunlight filtered softly through the air, seed-heads and willow fluff floating serenely on the breeze. The long grasses of the meadow were swishing quietly around his thighs and – had his nose not been running like a waterfall – Vincent may have found it relaxing. Behind him, Yuffie made a small noise of frustration, attempting to drive something into the rock hard earth. And it was _not_ working.

"Geez..." She huffed, her bottom wiggling around as she tried to dig the probe further into the ground, "Couldn't have sent us with a drill too could he?"

Sniffing quietly in the confines of his cloak, Vincent shrugged his shoulders and looked around at the surrounding trees, his clawed fingers just playing with the safety catch of Cerberus. He had to admit that Reeve had rather under-supplied them when he sent them out on this mission and he'd already found himself digging into his own pockets to pay for lunch and tissues.

"Are you gonna stand there all day looking snifflish or you gonna help me get this anal-probe shoved in here."

Rolling his eyes at Yuffie's uncouth language, he turned and crouched on the ground with her, his hand sliding over hers as he helped her slide the probe into the ground. The little light on the top began flashing green and Yuffie stood up.

"Keep watching for when that goes red for me will ya?" She yawned, reaching her arms above her head and stretching, letting her head fall back as she sighed. "I'm gonna talk a walk. Don't kill y'self before I get back ok?"

Then she turned on her heel and began to wade out amongst the plants, letting her fingertips trail through the heads, more seeds flying up into the air at her touch. Standing, Vincent watched her go. When he told her not to go too far she threw him a salute and carried on, turning a right-angle and slowing her pace.

Despite himself and all his previous prejudices against her – stealing his materia... his cloak... his gun... his money... his cloak... just generally stealing – he had to admit she was an attractive person. She was smaller than he was, which was right for a female – though she barely counted for one of those at all - and she was more delicate than he was, the evidence already showing in the small scratches she bore on her legs from all the grasses. The angry thin lines shouldn't have bothered him, but he couldn't help but admire her physical appearance and having those cuts there _is_ bothersome and he _will_ let it trouble him.

She was wearing those damn short-shorts again, he'd told her before they left that they were going to be in a field, but she only complained that if she could wear the shorts in winter, then she could wear them in a field in autumn. She never listened to him, she's like a child. She's so caught up in what's around her – the sun, the grass, the insects etc. – that she doesn't even notice the injuries she's giving herself. Anyone with more sense would have at least checked them already, not left them until later, but when was he ever coupled with anyone who had sense.

Vincent Valentine was the sort of man who anyone would hook up to a kind, sweet young woman who cared for herself and everyone else she came into contact with, much like Aerith. Or a woman of high-class and sophistication who was intelligent and always appropriate with elegance to the point of elevated grace and rank, Lucrecia for example. Or maybe even Tifa, with a body any man would lust over and smouldering eyes that seemed endlessly soft despite all she had been through, and endlessly kind and loving.

But instead he found himself drawn up to this young girl of ridiculously superior birth, nearly a third his chronological age, unruly, uncouth, a thief, defiant to the point of aggravation beyond all rational belief and also quite possibly clinically insane... to a _spectacular_ degree!

Sniffing again, he glanced back over his shoulder to check if the probe had stopped flashing green yet. It hadn't so he turned back to watching Yuffie. She had stopped and was now staring into the sky, one hand brought up to shade her eyes, while the other one fondled half-heartedly with a reed. So maybe she _was_ all of those annoying and generally undesirable things, but she was still beautiful. She held herself with a kind of grace and vitality that only royalty and cats possessed. Her hair and skin seemed to glow no matter how many days it had been since she'd seen a shower. And her eyes, with their stormy, plum-coloured depths, were harsh and aged, but glittering and dancing with enjoyment, even if her damn near perpetual smile wasn't.

They were polar opposites and he shouldn't have been attracted to her but he was. No, scratch that, he was attracted to Tifa and Aerith and Lucrecia... but he was _attached_ to Yuffie. And he shouldn't have been, he was monster after all and monsters didn't do love, only lust. He shouldn't even have been doing her the injustice of lusting after her, but damn it all he just couldn't help himself. That was the worst part about being a monster, he couldn't stop himself.

"I thought I told you to tell me when it turned red." Yuffie huffed, stalking back towards him and bending down to wrench the thing from the soil, waggling her bottom as she did so. Trying his best not to stare at her backside, Vincent shrugged his shoulders, resisting the urge to scratch the back of his head as he'd seen Cloud do many a time.

"I wasn't concentrating."

"I can see that," Yuffie said, straightening up and wiping the probe off on her leg before jamming it into her pocket. "You have your head in the clouds too much I swear."

Frowning at the streak of mud across Yuffie's flawless, tanned skin, Vincent realised something; attraction is easy to get rid of, distancing yourself from something you're attracted to sorts that out pretty quickly, but being attached to someone is so much harder to kill as attachment means you're together, no matter how had you try to separate the peices. And didn't he hate that word... Pieces. It made him itch, _she_ made him itch, like itching powder, or this allergy he's struggling with.

That was it... Yuffie was Vincent's own personal allergen, all the little pieces sticking in his skin and his throat making it hard to breathe or see or move. He could think of no way to rid himself of this attachment/distraction/allergic reaction and strangely enough found he had no inclinations to search for one, even though she isn't the one he was supposed to want...


	6. Mission 2

**_A/N:_** Sorry this is so late, I've been RIDICULOUSLY busy, what with A-levels and all that lot xD

Not too sure if this was what you had in mind Em Space, but here it is :) Enjoy :D

* * *

Mission 2

Vincent blinked away at the water clinging to his eyelashes and lowered himself another few inches on his rope, trying his level best to ignore the squealing laughing ninja swinging around and around on her rope beside him. Their surroundings were completely indiscernible due to mist and the bottom was lost in a haze of yellowish grey smog. Hence the climbing gear.

Wasn't this always the way though? Wasn't he always sent on some ridiculous mission to some faraway place in the middle of nowhere getting something stupidly easy with one of the most mentally challenged people on the _planet_! Certainly seemed that way... Speaking of which, shouldn't he have been paying more attention to controlling said mentally challenged person?

A couple of meters away to his left, Yuffie was dangling precariously upside-down from her rope, gloved hands hanging white-knuckled onto the uncomforting thin climber's rope, lowering herself jerkily further into the gloom, laughing like a kid in a candy store. An evil kid in a candy store.

"Yuffie you're going to pass out if you hang up-side any longer."

"Oh relax Vinnie," Yuffie giggled, righting herself only to proceed to spin in increasingly faster circles, "this is the first time we've been out of the office in _weeks_! Have a little fun would ya? Grumpy guts... Wheeeeeee!"

Vincent frowned, watching the top end of Yuffie's rope dancing in the gloom and a sudden feeling of irritation coursed through him. Of course the rope would take her weight, and of course the stake at the top would too – he'd hammered it in himself after all – and naturally he would catch her if she _did _somehow manage to pitch herself out into the fog, but she still shouldn't be taking the risks.

Almost as soon as this thought entered his head, there was a shriek beside him and Yuffie plummeted into the depths. Struggling with his bindings, Vincent's stomach lurched as the shrieks stopped abruptly. His fear was, although not entirely unfounded, entirely unnecessary as a few moments later there followed a rather loud "Ow!" and then "I found the bottom!"

Grumbling about his near heart-attack, Vincent dropped himself to the bottom and unclipped himself, glaring daggers at the ninja now pulling a rather large and pointy looking rock from underneath her. Reaching down, he closed his claw around her arm and pulled her unceremoniously to her feet:

"What do you think you're doing?" He hissed, ignoring the look of surprise in her eyes, "Goofing off, what if the bottom hadn't been right here?"

"Then I'd have kept going until I hit it wouldn't I." She snapped back, struggling her arm out of his grip, massaging the already purpling marks where his fingers were. It made something twinge inside him at the sight.

"You'd have died or done yourself a damage," he glared at her, "And I'm not prepared to cart your dead body back to the WRO because of your own stupidity."

"Stupidity!" Yuffie exclaimed, her voice rising to a shout, "It's called _fun_ Vincent. F U N! Maybe if you stopped being so gloomy you'd try it sometime!"

"Fun doesn't include falling possibly hundreds of feet to a predictably messy end at the bottom of it!" He gestured roughly with Cerberus to the jagged and pointy rocks Yuffie had barely missed.

"I was mucking around Valentine." She threw her hands in the air. "Lighten up!"

"Mucking around is what children do!" He shouted at her, finally losing his temper and taking a few steps toward her, "Stop fucking about and grow up Kisaragi!"

He winced internally at her flinch and the hurt clearly evident in her eyes, in the way those thin brows were pulled together, the way she looked him up and down in a disgusted way then turned her back. He barely let out a breath as she stalked over to a rock and picked it up, putting it in her pocket, no doubt to throw at him later.

It wasn't that he was wrong, or even that she wasn't, but just that he shouldn't have shouted like that. It's unusual for him to get so worked up, and he's never, _never_ used her second name before, not like that. It shouldn't have bothered him at all, her mucking around and nearly killing herself, but it does bother him. It bothers him that he can't just leave her alone to muck around and risk her neck in the name of fun. It bothers him that he still thinks of her as a child, even though said child is in fact a fully grown woman capable of reducing him to a raging, glaring, shouting moron simply by virtue of landing on her arse.

He let Cerberus fall limply at his side, half-heartedly noticing that there was really no reason to have it out in the first place, not unless he was planning on shooting her for her trouble. Because that's all she is really, trouble. Trouble for him in the eyes of other people, he doesn't really want to be known as the paedophilic vampire fawning over some kid straight out of the loony-bin. And trouble for him in the eyes of the law, he equally doesn't want to be seen as the 69 year old Turk accused of getting fancy with the Princess of Wutai. But doesn't he just wish some days that he was?

"Everything happens for a reason Vincent..." He heard Yuffie mumble, her voice so low that he wasn't even sure she had meant him to hear, and had her face not been hidden by the veil of her hair, he may even have seen the tears. But as it was, he didn't see, and her face was hidden from him the rest of the day, and she didn't muck around on the climb back up, and this was, as Vincent knew very well, a rarity at best.

If he really thought about it, he could perhaps recall once or twice, in all of his time knowing her, when the ninja wasn't larking about or cracking jokes to anyone and everyone who would or wouldn't listen. But the rest of his memories were of her as a raging ball of black fuzz, and Shuriken, buzzing around like a fly, irritating and cajoling and distracting from any important or time-consuming thoughts or actions. She was always running around and creating havoc, he just hadn't bothered to consider a reason...

* * *

**_A/N:_** Any more prompts would be greatly appreciated, even if they're simply words, or 50 word challenges xD I'd love to do some of those so PLEASE prompt me one xD

-Okami


End file.
